


Truth or Dare

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [5]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Feels and fluff, Lots and lots of silliness, Multi, Slash, Slumber parties randomly break out, Smut, Spanking, Truth or Dare, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami's life is completely upside down with what's happening between himself, Takaba and Feilong. The more they thrive in their relationship as friends, the harder it is for him to grasp the grains of sand that were once his unshakable control of his life and its circumstances. Naughty sexy times happen while he's working. An innocent room suffers massive indignity. Fingernail polish happens too, as does hair dye and pigtails. Somewhere there is a gun involved and a sword and interesting costumes. Then in spite of himself, Asami finds himself having a slumber party in his bed and playing an intriguing game called Truth or Dare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

The speed with which Asami’s life is turned upside down is startling. The rather dramatic change in circumstances in all three of their previous relationships with one another, once Feilong has his snit and it is met with decisive and excruciating action, is actually most surprising in how simple it becomes for Takaba and Feilong. It’s quite simply adorable, the way Feilong is transformed by his punishment and the forceful shattering of the walls he’s built for himself over the years. Those walls are not merely breached. It is exactly as if Feilong has merely been waiting on the edge of his seat for seven years (and probably well before then) for a valid reason to allow them to be breached. Once Asami has proven his resolve, Feilong’s resistance vanishes like vapor under a morning sun. He is breathtakingly lovely in his unashamed submission. Asami can scarcely glance at him without feeling his breath come short in his throat and the palms of his hands begin to itch with the need to touch his new plaything. Whether that touch is tender or brutal, Liu Feilong blossoms under it into a being so transcendent with happiness that he infects everyone around him with it.

They solve the problem of the Baishe leader’s reputation with a carefully planned encounter. Feilong has a meeting with his chief of security who has flown in from the compound in China to consult Feilong on some important issues. This man has been with the Tong since Feilong was a child, and earning his respect has not been easy for illegitimate son who was forced to take the reins of his father’s empire much too young. Feilong agonizes over the meeting and begins to show signs of being horrible again until Asami shoves him against a wall and snarls at him to stop being ridiculous unless he wants his ass beaten and fucked bloody again. One of Feilong’s eyebrows goes up and his luscious mouth quirks at the corner. Watching them, Akihito falls off the couch laughing, which isn’t terribly conducive to the current level of tension.

“What on earth is so funny,” demands Asami a little irritably.

“Feilong practically came packaged with visible thought bubbles,” snickers Takaba unrepentantly.

“Really now?” asks Feilong curiously. “What was I thinking then?”

“You were wondering if that option stays on the table whether you stop being ridiculous or not.”

“Demon,” chides Asami without much conviction, because it’s patently obvious that’s exactly what Feilong is indeed thinking now that Aki points it out. He turns back to Feilong, who looks amused and embarrassed and anxious all at once. “Beautiful one, if you will stop acting foolish and let me tell you my idea, and you will obey me so that we may ruin my reputation together, then tonight you may pick any toy you want and I shall use it until you beg me to stop. And then,” he leans in and teases the shell of Feilong’s ear with the tip of his tongue. “Ohh then, Fei-kun…I _won’t.”_

His plan, even if he says so himself, is beautiful in its simplicity. Although he worries a bit that Takaba will balk at the idea, the young man laughs when he hears the idea and shrugs it off, because as he points out, Feilong’s bodyguards and security chief have all seen him in much more compromising positions than what Asami’s proposing. Both his lovers heartily approve of the immediate and energetic lovemaking his plan entails, a prolonged event that leaves all of them gasping for breath and everybody but Feilong a little bruised and battered.

Thus it is that Feilong’s bodyguards, who have been growing disgruntled by their employer’s refusal to allow them entrance into Asami’s penthouse to verify that he is well, and his security chief, are ushered into the penthouse’s living room by Kirishima to find their boss elegantly clothed in a Dolce suit, seated in Asami’s chair by the window, one of Asami’s Dunhills between his lips while Asami himself leans over him solicitously to light it for him. Though Feilong is fully clothed, Asami sports only a pair of snug boxer briefs and his cashmere robe, left to gape open so that the bite marks on his neck and chest are plainly visible when he turns to incline his head at Feilong’s staff members. The looks on all their faces are priceless. Asami softly offers the men refreshment and goes to the bar to pour two precise fingers of scotch for the one who requests it. He passes it over with a nod, then murmurs softly to Feilong that he will leave them to their business and be waiting for him when it’s finished, at his convenience. From his position seated on the floor at Feilong’s feet, himself wearing only a pair of boxer briefs similar to Asami’s but without the additional covering of a bathrobe, Takaba has to chew on his lips to keep from bursting out laughing as all three men’s eyebrows try to crawl all the way up into their hairlines. Takaba doesn’t speak Mandarin, and the three men know it, so they show no reluctance to conduct their meeting in Aki’s presence. Feilong is imperious and bored and perfectly arrogant with his underlings. He answers their questions about the nature of his relationship with the two Japanese men and especially with Asami Ryuichi with smug smiles that reveal nothing and yet imply everything.

“Is it possible you have actually brought the great and powerful Ryuichi to his knees, Master Feilong?” muses the security chief with a sneer. Feilong blinks slowly at him, long lashes sweeping delicately over his porcelain cheeks.

“Sometimes, Feng,” he purrs lasciviously, “all one has to do is offer one’s target what it most desires and then everything you want is yours….for the taking.” Though the actual exchange of power he refers to is not the one the henchmen take it to mean, it is still precisely what all of them intend for the men to infer.

After they have left, with cruel and gleeful smiles on their faces, Asami strolls back into the den. He tugs Feilong gently to his feet and reclaims his chair, pulling the younger man into his lap and reaching down to card his fingers through Takaba’s hair. He’s feeling vastly amused at the ease with which they’ve perpetrated the deception.

“They’re going to tell everyone they meet or speak to that I’ve brought you to heel, Asami,” mutters Feilong unhappily. “I didn’t know what to do about how they’d react if they knew the truth. It might mean my death at the hands of men who would only see my choices in our relationship as weakness…”

Asami touches his finger to Feilong’s lips and interrupts him.

“The weakness is theirs for not understanding that to allow oneself the freedom to kneel, to give as a gift that devotion which they think must be taken by force, is a far more difficult choice. It takes a great deal more courage to submit than it does to dominate, Feilong.” He notices out of the corner of his eye that Takaba’s head jerks upright from where he’s been tracing the wood’s grain in the flooring and he looks at Asami sharply. Good. Perhaps he’ll finally begin to start being less itchy in his own skin about the way Asami so effortlessly forces obedience and desire from him.

“I don’t like doing it at the expense of your reputation, Sensei,” whispers Feilong mournfully. “They will be certain to spread their news as far and wide as possible by morning.”

“Hush, Feilong,” says Asami good-naturedly. “My reputation will stand it. Anyone I lose business with over this won’t be anybody I care about losing, and anyone I would care about losing will either guess the truth or think I am running a long con and drawing you carefully close for the kill. Do not worry over it. My position is more secure than yours, pretty pet, and it will stand the storm of a few rumors.” He hopes his utter lack of concern will make Feilong stop fretting about it. That’s going to get tedious if it lasts more than a day or so. He’s not sure he can make it any clearer without hurting the temperamental young man’s feelings. The simple fact is that Asami doesn’t have to give a shit if anybody in Japan thinks he’s Feilong’s bitch. The opinions of his associates and rivals alike are irrelevant to his position here. He knows perfectly well that he has enemies, ones who would jump at the chance to exploit a moment of weakness and take him out of the picture. It’s simply a fact that though he imagines someone will try, hearing the rumors and thinking him weak, they’re going to fail. Asami’s people are loyal, and they are the best. He himself is so much better than even his closest rival that he’s not going to lose a moment’s sleep over what they may think of him when word of the meeting gets out.  Here on his home turf it is an inarguable fact that he is the top of this food chain. Asami is THE alpha predator, and public opinion can’t change that. On HIS own turf, however, Feilong has been required to watch his back since the day his “father” revealed himself and brought the deadly young assassin into the fold. People have been watching and waiting for Feilong to stumble every day for close to half his life. The knowledge that he calls Asami “Master” would be a death sentence for him. Asami won’t allow that to happen, not even if it costs him a few valuable associations. The thought of the bullet or the blade that stills the passionate heart he has finally made to beat for him alone is unconscionable. Though he will never say so out loud, he knows he’d crawl on his hands and knees in the middle of Tokyo square and suck Feilong off in front of every gangster in Asia to keep him safe, if that’s what it took, because after he was done, Asami would still have enough power to kill every one of them where they stood laughing at him, and Feilong would not. Not yet. He hopes it doesn’t come to that, because he certainly wouldn’t relish the idea, but when it comes to protecting what’s his, there is NOTHING he won’t do.

 

As he’s hoped from the beginning, Feilong’s obvious delight at submitting to Asami has an effect on Takaba. At first, it seems to confuse him, but his abuse at Feilong’s hands more than justifies his mistrust of the sudden change in attitude. Asami watches the boy’s thought process as he watches with his bright hazel eyes, sometimes frowning a little, sometimes slack-mouthed with lust, sometimes gleefully delighting in Feilong’s comeuppance, as he finally comes to the realization that the Baishe’s surrender is genuine. He seems preoccupied and thoughtful for a couple of days, but then Asami notices a subtle change in Aki’s demeanor. He will probably never become the slave Feilong desires to be so very much, but he does seem more at ease with himself and his own responses to Asami’s dominant behavior. His gripes and complaints about Asami’s rudeness and high-handedness disappear almost entirely, giving way to joking whines and adorable pouting. Seeing the person Feilong is becoming, Takaba forgives him entirely at last. Asami will never cease to be amazed at Aki’s capacity for forgiveness and his ability to find the best in people even though he is well acquainted with the worst. But his occasional nervousness and distance when it comes to Feilong are things of the past.  It is at that point that the aforementioned up-ending of Asami’s life really happens. Practically overnight, his two pets become fast friends and partners in crime. He comes home quite late from work one morning, just before dawn, weary to the bone, and finds them lying together in a heap in his bed like puppies. Feilong’s beautiful hair is tangled around them both, a few strands of it fluttering with Takaba’s deep, even breathing where it falls across his face. Their lips are still reddened and bee-stung with kisses and other naughty things they've been up to with their mouths. There’s come in Aki’s hair and smeared in one of Feilong’s eyebrows. They are the most adorable things he’s ever seen in his life, ever. The rapid stiffening of his cock as he stares down at their peaceful faces, both of them looking impossibly young in repose, makes him forget his fatigue entirely. It startles him suddenly to realize that Feilong is actually only a few years older than Akihito. He clears his throat loudly and they both startle into sudden wakefulness. He’s pleased to see that they don’t jump guiltily apart, though he sees Feilong’s arms tighten a little as Aki thinks about it.

“Good morning, Sensei,” Feilong purrs, stretching luxuriously.

“You were late again,” accuses Takaba, pouting a little bit.

“It doesn’t look to me as though you felt my absence too keenly,” he comments as blandly as he is able, his face carefully expressionless. They glance at one another guiltily and he chomps down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“We’re sorry, Sensei,” whispers Feilong. “We were both lonely. Please don’t blame Aki, I was the one who started it.”

“Shut up,” says Takaba fiercely. “You didn’t make me do anything! Asami, it’s NOT his fault!”

“Oh, I’m fairly certain you’re equally culpable,” he growls softly, strolling to the closet as he takes off his jacket and vest, slowly loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He opens the top drawer of his dresser and pulls something out. When he turns back to look at the bed, they are hugging each other nervously with twin expressions of protectiveness and anxiety on their faces, and yet both pairs of eyes take in his half-clothed state, the casually unfastened top button of his pants, the ripple of muscle in his belly as he walks slowly back to the bed. Both pairs of lips part breathlessly, and both pretty bodies squirm against each other a little when they observe the paddle in his right hand. He slaps it gently against his left palm. It isn’t a particularly vicious toy, being made of stiff leather and only a little bigger than his open hand. It has the word “Brat” embossed into the smooth black surface. It is a terribly clichéd toy, and he hadn’t been able to resist it. “Both of you turn over on your stomachs,” he says softly as he reaches the end of the bed. “Raise your hips and keep them raised. You may hold hands if you like.” He’s so hard he wonders if he’s going to spill in his pants before he finishes with them.  He’s delighted when they do indeed seek the comfort of holding hands, both of them turning their heads to the side, cheeks resting against the bedspread while they look into each other’s eyes.  


“I’m sorry, Aki,” whispers Feilong.

“It’s okay,” Takaba whispers back. “I wanted to.”

In the name of every god there has ever been, it’s so precious he almost can’t bear it. But the way they both shudder and whimper and squirm when he paddles them firmly is too gorgeous to be missed. It’s not particularly vicious, and does no more than redden their exquisite little asses. Their gasps and the way they bite their lips and arch their backs, offering themselves shamelessly up to him for punishment almost undo him. After only about five minutes, he tosses the silly paddle on the bed and kneels behind them both, one hand on each warm backside, fingertips brushing lightly over two quivering little assholes. Aki gasps and Feilong moans softly.

“I’ll let you both try to make it up to me for being such lewd little tramps while I was working,” he says softly, knowing his voice betrays his desire and not caring. “Do a good job, or I’ll paddle both your delicious backsides until you cry.”

A little later, when he throws his head back and comes, both their mouths hot on his aching cock as they lick and suck him and kiss each other around his thickness, their tongues wet and warm and perfect, he knows there’s no way he can even pretend to be cross with them anymore. They’ve done far too good a job for him to even try. They’d taken turns beautifully, one taking his length in their mouth while the other sucked eagerly at his balls, changing positions and kissing passionately as they had done so. He has two fingers in both their tight little holes when he shouts out his release and they suck down every drop, groaning and whining eagerly. He makes them show him how they pleasured one another without his presence or permission, and is positively transfixed when they curl around one another like kittens and suck each other off with great enthusiasm.

Before they all fall asleep he presses a kiss onto the top of each head cradled on his shoulders.

“You can play with each other any time you wish,” he whispers as he turns off the light, “but from now on, you will call me and receive my permission to do so, or I really will punish you both. There’s a big wooden paddle in the hidden room that will make tonight’s spankings seem like a gentle massage. I’ll give you permission every time, unless there’s a really valid reason I don’t want you to, but you’ll ask or you’ll pay the price for disobeying me. And NOT,” he adds severely, nudging the back of Feilong’s leg with his toe, “in a fun way.”

“You just want us to call you so you’ll know we’re doing it and you can think perverted thoughts about it the rest of the day,” mutters Takaba in a disgruntled, sleepy voice.

“Mm,” agrees Asami with a smirk, “and you’ll be glad I was when I come home already hard for you and take your tight little hole so hard you feel it for days.”

“Horrible man,” mumbles Aki in a pleased voice.

He really knows his entire existence has spun off into a random new orbit that caroms wildly in a different direction on practically an hourly basis some days, when he comes home early for a change. His ears are graced with the decided sound of someone shrieking. For a split second his whole body tenses and his hand is on the butt of his pistol without him even thinking about it. Then the tone of the shriek registers in his brain, aided by the appearance of Feilong sprinting from the hall where the bedrooms are and into the living room, with Akihito hot on his heels. They are both laughing so hard they don’t notice him standing in the doorway. They vanish through the living room into some other part of the penthouse. Asami stands rooted to the spot as a startlingly long list of observations begin to catalogue themselves in his mind. He’s completely unable to perform his usual trick of being able to summarize any scenario in an instant and use it to his advantage. Mostly this is because what he thinks he’s seen is too fantastic to really process.

Feilong’s hair is in pigtails, two high ones that make him look like someone out of a Sailor Moon anime. Though the Chinese had flown through the room too fast for him to absolutely sure, he’s also pretty sure there are also three or four random braids hanging down his back. With ribbons in them. He’s also almost certain the button down shirt Feilong’s wearing is one of his own Brooks Brothers shirts, and nearly as sure that there are streaks of purple paint on it. Also on Feilong’s skin and in his hair. Though he’d been moving pretty fast, and Asami had been too riveted by all of these things, he suspects the flash of bright color he’d noted on Feilong’s bare feet is hot pink toenail polish. He shudders a little and shakes his head, turning his mind to consider Akihito’s appearance.

He knows he still hasn’t seen every silly t-shirt in Aki’s possession, because there seems to be an endless supply of them. Aki loves graphic tee’s and branded logos of his favorite things and character shirts from movies or television shows he likes. Asami is, however, pretty sure the one he’s wearing today is new. Though he’s willing to accept it’s possible Takaba owns a few really odd shirts, his strange insistence on reminding Asami that’s he’s a _man_ seems in direct contradiction to the pastel pink Jigglypuff shirt he’s sporting now, the girl cut one that is so short it bares his midriff and reveals the…. _is_ he really wearing a belly chain?? And eyeliner? There are also rather a lot more colors in Aki’s hair than the purple Feilong’s smeared with, and it looks purposeful, random spikes of bright blue and red and fuscia and purple and green. His toenails are also hot pink. And his fingernails are a lurid chartreuse.

Asami’s willing to entertain the possibility that he’s hallucinating, as he’s utterly at a loss to explain any of these extraordinary and inexplicable visuals he’s still trying to process. Well.

He steps further into his home, even though he feels vaguely like it’s not his home at all and he’s actually stepping into one of those old American Twilight Zone episodes. On Feilong and Akihito’s second lap of….what are they doing anyway? Participating in costumed calisthenics? Playing tag? Trying to kill each other (all right, probably not that one, they’re laughing too hard)?  At any rate, on their next lap, he intercepts them by the practical mode of stepping into their path so that Feilong collides with him and Aki collides with Feilong. Fortunately, he’s braced for it and doesn’t have to deal with the indignity of being knocked to the ground by their momentum. There’s a brief unbalanced tangle of limbs, but no actual casualties. YET, he thinks darkly, as up close it’s apparent that Feilong is indeed wearing one of Asami’s Brooks Brothers shirts and it is indeed stained with purple paint.

Feilong and Akihito goggle at him speechlessly for a few seconds.

“Am I to assume by your expressions that my early homecoming presents something of a problem for you?” he inquires politely. They exchange alarmed glances and then look back at him guiltily. “Explain,” he demands. “Now.”

“You’re not supposed to be early,” gripes Takaba petulantly.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” mutters Feilong, blushing prettily.

“We’re making you a present,” sighs Aki.

“It’s nearly done,” adds Feilong.

“Your explanations leave something to be desired,” observes Asami dryly.

“Oh damn it, you’re home anyway, we can’t make it a surprise now,” pouts Aki, reaching for Asami’s hand.

“Oh, I’m surprised all right,” mutters Asami to himself as he lets himself be towed out of the hall to the door at the end of the hall, a disused guest room he’d allowed Takaba to turn into a studio several months ago.

The purple paint is immediately resolved as he takes in the drop cloths over everything and the freshly painted walls. He vaguely remembers telling Akihito he was allowed to make whatever changes he desired to the room to suit his purposes. Why he’s chosen a bruise-colored purple isn’t immediately clear, but at least it explains the smears on Feilong. Apparently despite the fact that the Chinese gangster is one of the most graceful and deadly human beings Asami’s ever met, he’s hopeless at painting walls without making a mess. Why this is adorable he can’t quite say, but it is. Akihito lets go of his hand and stomps (also adorable) over to one side of the room where there are no drop cloths but there are tall white reflective screens he uses to direct lighting, and an odd assortment of….well, detritus comes to mind but that’s not entirely accurate because taken separately all the stuff on this side of the room is identifiable. It’s the whole of it that’s bizarre. His agile mind catalogues his own cashmere bathrobe (and by all that is holy there had better be no paint on it), a large teddy bear, a hand mirror and several painted fans, a gun he hopes is not loaded, a sword and several other sharp objects such as daggers and shuriken and throwing darts. There are dozens of hopelessly tangled articles of clothing, some of it decidedly pornographic in nature. There’s what he’s pretty sure is a half-eaten sticky lollipop adhering to a poster of a prowling black leopard. There are plastic totes with cosmetics spilling out of them, and several assorted bottles of nail polish. There is a black couch and a blue bean bag chair and a white stool and several hairbrushes and combs and bottles of hair product strewn about. The brat paddle is leaning in a corner beside a pair of handcuff. His eyes slide sideways to gaze at them suspiciously as he’s received no phone call today asking for permission to play with each other. Neither of them has the look of that though.

“Takaba-kun,” he whispers in a menacingly silky voice. “explain why you’ve felt it necessary to attack this innocent room with a tsunami. Please use sentences that make sense in actual Japanese. And do hurry, pet, because I’m starting to feel decidedly unforgiving.”

Takaba stands very still and looks at him for several long seconds, his lips slightly parted as his pupils dilate. Asami glares at him pointedly, derailing the boy’s obvious sudden arousal at the tone in his voice enough for him to answer.

“I have to just show you,” he sighs. “This would have been so much better if I’d had time to finish before you came home.”

“Do excuse me for returning to my own place of residence at a reasonable hour,” he murmurs. Feilong snorts and he turns his head slightly to stare impassively at the wildly improbably dressed Baishe leader. Feilong bites back his snicker and looks innocently at the ceiling. They’re possessed by demons, both of them. Takaba goes to his camera, which is set up on a tripod, and plucks out its memory card. He takes it to his laptop and pushes it in, opening the first of several files. Asami leans closer and is, for lack of a better phrase, rendered speechless. There are hundreds of photographs in the files. All taken in this penthouse, most of them in this very room. In one, Feilong kneels on the floor with Asami’s robe falling off his shoulders, gazing back over his left one at the camera, a tiny and very filthy smile on his face, the robe sagging down his back just enough to show the two dimples at the top of his ass and the very tiniest peek of his ass crack. In another, both young men lounge on the couch, Aki’s head in Feilong’s lap. Feilong is looking down at him with a look of such tenderness that Asami’s heart clutches a little to see it, and Takaba is laughing up at him, reaching with his hands to touch Feilong’s face. It is breathtaking in its simplicity and its beauty. He has no idea how Takaba managed to capture the image while also starring in it. There are pictures of Feilong performing graceful katas with the sword, balanced on one foot with the other touching the back of his head, his hair cascading around his naked torso while the snug black yoga pants he wears just barely hang on his hips and his bare feet peek out from the hem of the pants legs (his toenails are not yet pink in this photo set). There are pictures of each of them tying the other up, their expressions ranging from ferocious to filthy to amused and silly. There is one he particularly likes in which both of them are clearly naked, standing in profile to the camera, with their bodies pressed so tightly together that the viewer can see no sign of their private parts. They are kissing deeply, passionately, melded to one another so that it is hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. It is one of the most classically erotic things he has seen in his life. From the unbearably beautiful and sexy, the photos eventually become charming and funny. In one, Feilong sits on the sofa with his knees primly together, his hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of his head and a pair of glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. Aki lays across his lap looking sulky while Feilong is clearly lecturing him. In the next one of the same series, Feilong has the paddle in his hand and is obviously still lecturing, but now Akihito looks bored out of his mind. In the final shot, he’s kneeling on the floor clutching his ass with both hands and glaring resentfully at Feilong who is laughing and rolling on the couch. There’s another one after that wherein Feilong apparently manages to resist hitting Aki too hard and they’ve one a pretty creditable pose of a naughty boy being punished while he yells and promises to be good from now on. Long before he gets to these shots, Asami’s cock has thickened in his pants and he’s completely forgotten to be annoyed. There are shots of Akihito wearing one of Feilong’s kimonos, looking like he’s dressed in his daddy’s clothes. There are shots of Feilong licking the lollipop while he cleans the gun (it is indeed unloaded). Asami finds these almost impossibly erotic.  As he does the one of Feilong dressed in a dark blue Lolita costume, sitting on the stool looking down at the teddy bear in his lap while Takaba fixes his hair (hence the pigtails). The images go on and on, from Feilong sitting with his head tilted up obediently while Aki paints his eyes with kohl, to Akihito shrieking with laughter while Feilong holds his foot captive and paints his toenails, to the two of them with their heads together, wearing absurd odds and ends of clothing intended for men, women and children all at once, their faces painted to look like either clowns or whores, it’s a little hard to tell, sharing a popsicle and reading what looks like a book of erotic photography. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Aki,” he finally whispers, feeling a little breathless.

“They would have been better if I’d had more time,” gripes Aki. Feilong pushes him.

“You’d have had more time if you hadn’t gotten sidetracked trying to make me let you paint me purple,” he says pointedly.

“I wouldn’t have gotten sidetracked if you hadn’t already gotten so much paint on you.”

“Is that my shirt?” Asami interrupts suddenly, able to remember what he was annoyed about at last. Feilong looks guilty, but Takaba rolls his eyes.

“I couldn’t have him keep getting the paint all over himself, it would’ve messed up some of the shots I wanted to get later. Besides Asami, it’s the one that politician dropped his cigar on last week. There’s a hole in it and you were going to throw it away.”

“Ah,” says Asami, wondering if it makes him a horrible person to feel a bit disappointed he no longer feels justified in wanting to spank them again.  “And the toenails?”

“Takaba made me wear a dress!” says Feilong, sticking his tongue out at Akihito. Asami stares at him for a really long time.

“Feilong?” he says finally.

“Yes, sensei?”

“Did you or did you not once kill a man with a pair of nail scissors?”

“Yes, sensei.”

Asami looks at him pointedly until realization dawns.

“Ohh. Well fine. He did tell me I had to put it on though.”

“I also said you’d be pretty,” points out Takaba, sticking out his own tongue.

“You were,” Asami assures him, grabbing Feilong by the wrist and pressing his hand to the crotch of the yakuza’s Armani suit and the – ha – concrete evidence of his arousal. Feilong tries to be distracted by this, but the tale of the day’s adventure is positively riveting and Asami pushes his hand away with a warning glare.

“I said I felt like I was at a slumber party, because by then the room was….a little messy,” continues Aki, looking around a little ruefully.

“Remind me to never ask you to demonstrate your idea of wrecked,” murmurs Asami with a twitch in his lip that is almost a smile.

“And I said if it was a party, and he was doing my hair, he had to let me do his nails.”

“And I said he couldn’t do my fingernails,” supplies Takaba helpfully, then frowns at the eyewatering shade of green on his fingers.

“So…toenails,” finishes Feilong triumphantly. Asami’s pretty sure he’s never seen Feilong have actual fun of any kind, let alone this much of it, and decides he’d sacrifice every Brooks Brothers shirt in his closet for this kind of radiance. “Except then I said I’d let him paint my fingernails if he let me paint his.”

“And I forgot I had all this cool temporary hair dye from a shoot a few months ago when I had to help a friend with an ad campaign,” offers Takaba with a grin. Then he frowns. “It didn’t work on Fei’s hair. It’s too black.”

“It looks wonderful on you though, Ototo,” smiles Feilong. Asami’s not sure “wonderful” is the word he’d use to describe the rainbow streaks in Akihito’s hair, but that Feilong’s calling him little brother and Aki’s not protesting pretty much trumps the hair.

“And why are the walls purple?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to wish he hadn’t. When on earth did things get this far out of his control? He’s so fucking charmed by them he’s not even trying to look stern anymore. He has a feeling the events that led them to be sitting here with him looking like bizarre mutant peacocks from a madman’s aviary have more to do with neither of them being willing to back down no matter how outrageous the other had gotten than with an actual desire to crossdress, but it’s hilarious and precious anyway. He hasn’t any real  desire for them to crossdress either, not on a regular basis anyway, because it’s their masculine beauty that appeals to him, but this anomaly is, he must admit, titillating.

“It looks better with that black couch we found in the storage closet,” says Takaba helpfully. Asami looks from the walls to the black velvet couch, and damned if he’s not right. The walls had started the day a sedate eggshell white. The later photos that actually show the wall and use the sofa as a setting piece do look a lot more striking than the earlier ones with the plain walls.

“What was the purpose of all of this?” he asks curiously. “Not that the pictures aren’t wonderful, Aki, because they’re some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and I can tell you right now that future houseguests that I trust even remotely are going to learn a lot more about our personal lives than they may ever want to, because I’m putting just about every one of them up on a wall. But…why did you do this? Were you bored?”

They look at one another and blush a little bit, which is once again so fucking charming he has to bite his lip to keep back a small groan of need.

“Ani told me…” Aki pauses and looks at Feilong, biting his lip a little uncertainly. Asami feels something enormous expand in his chest when he realizes it is because Aki is hesitating to reveal what Feilong said to him, protecting the other man’s trust, and that he’s referring to Feilong as his big brother.  Feilong smiles at Takaba.

“It’s all right,” he says softly. “I’ll tell him.” With that, he slides off the sofa and to the floor at Asami’s feet, kneeling with his backside resting on his heels. “Sensei,” he whispers, looking at the floor, still blushing a little. “I…I told Aki about what it was like when I was growing up. About being my father’s bastard and not…not ever being good enough to be recognized for who I was.”

“You were always good enough, beautiful one,” says Asami fiercely. “It was they who were not.”

Feilong’s smile is brilliant.

“I told him…well, that since I was just a small boy, I knew in my heart that what I wanted was to belong to someone, body and soul. We talked about the things we fantasized about when we got a little older, and for me, I would dream about a man. A man who would come to me in the night and take me, whether I begged him not to or welcomed him, and he was strong and merciless and kind and tender at the same time, and I would wake up with my….my cock aching and tears on my face because I knew…I knew that the men who served my family would call me weak and broken and flawed if they knew and that one day one of them would kill me, to keep such flawed blood out of the Baishe clan.”

“Feilong, no,” whispers Takaba, reaching across Asami’s knee to lay his hand on Feilong’s cheek.

“Unfortunately,” says Asami gently, “he is right. The tongs, with their hereditary leadership and the importance they place on their history and bloodlines, do not forgive anything they perceive as weakness. And anything less but the desire for total domination is perceived as weakness.”

“That’s…that’s just _stupid,_ ” cries Takaba hotly.

“Yes,” agrees Asami. “What a man or woman desires from a partner has nothing to do with their ability to run a business, and for all that some of my associates probably feel the same way Feilong’s would, most of us place little emphasis at all on a person’s sexual orientation. It’s no secret that I enjoy the company of other men. There are those who mock me for it, but not one of them makes the mistake of thinking it makes me weaker than they.”

“I’ll have to go back to China soon,” continues Feilong with a bit of sorrow in his voice.

“I know,” says Asami gently, though it gives him a pang of sadness to realize it.

“It won’t have to be for long, and I won’t have any trouble convincing my people that my presence will be required here on a regular basis to cement our foothold and make sure our dealings with you continue in our favor.”

“We’ll make sure all those things are true,” promises Asami, already making mental notes on ways of ensuring that Feilong’s presence in Japan is too profitable for any of his advisors or relatives to protest.

“Yes, sensei,” murmurs Feilong, not even trying to hide his huge smile. After a moment it fades, not replaced by sadness, but perhaps a little wistful along with the pleasure at Asami’s promise. “At any rate, I wanted to give you something to thank you for…for seeing past the man I’ve had to be and to the one I would have never been able to be if you hadn’t…well…”

“Bulldozed past all your bullshit?” supplies Asami helpfully. Takaba snickers.

“Yes, exactly,” agrees Feilong without the slightest resentment.

“And I realized I never really thanked you,” says Akihito softly, “for coming to find me. In…in Hong Kong.”

“For coming to save you from me, you mean,” says Feilong sadly. Akihito looks at him.

“Ani,” he whispers, “I wasn’t in danger from you anymore the day you called Asami and he told you he would do anything to get me back. You knew then you wouldn’t keep me from him. Asami saved me from Mikhail’s men, not you.”

Feilong raises his eyebrows.

“I told you that day I didn’t think he’d come for you.”

“I know,” says Akihito gently. “That was the day you asked me to stay with you. You were so sad when you got off the phone, I knew you were lying.”

“You never said anything.”

Akihito’s eyebrows go up.

“I may be kinda impetuous,” he says, flapping a hand at Asami when he snorts and makes a gagging sound at the gross understatement, “but I’m not stupid. You don’t tell a jealous Tong leader to his face that you think he’s a liar, even if you are getting fucked by him on a daily basis. Maybe especially then.”

“Daily basis, huh?” asks Asami blandly.

“Well,” amends Takaba, “sometimes he made me blow him instead.”

Feilong’s eyes are shadowed with fear when he looks at Asami, and the yakuza sees what he’s getting ready to do before he does it, grabbing Feilong by his shoulders before he can prostrate himself on the ground.

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Feilong. Don’t.”

“Sensei,” whispers the Baishe miserably, “I’m….I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up,” says Asami roughly. “How much must you have loved  me, Feilong, that while you believed I had orchestrated and carried out the murder of your father, still you never tried to kill me or that which belonged to me? You went to prison for it, beautiful one. How much, Feilong, must you have loved me that even after that, when you BELIEVED it was because of me….that you did not harm Akihito? You could have killed me many times, but you didn’t. How much?”

“With all my heart,” whispers Feilong breathlessly. “Since the first moment you kissed me and told me I didn’t have to let my brother treat me like his slave.”

“It was a good kiss,” murmurs Asami fondly, leaning down.

“A very good kiss,” breathes Feilong, lifting his face and closing his eyes. Asami has noticed that recently Feilong closes his eyes when he kisses him, which says more for how safe he feels here than anything else. It is easier for a lover to kill you than any other person, something both of them know, and as a result it is rare for men like them to close their eyes when they kiss. With a sigh, as his mouth covers Feilong’s Asami lets his eyes fall closed, something he’s done with Takaba for quite some time. Of course, the idea of Takaba stabbing him in the back while they’re kissing is so patently absurd it makes him chuckle, and the kiss breaks with both of them smiling.

“No apologies, my pet,” he says quietly, smoothing his thumb across Feilong’s bottom lip. “Not between men like us. It’s past. What we have now is all that matters.” He leans back and looks around the room, shaking his head at the sheer volume of chaos they’ve managed to unleash over the course of a few hours. “This is a terrible place for a slumber party,” he comments idly. “There’s  not even a bed, and all the furniture has those uncomfortable canvas covers on it….”

“There’s a bed in your room,” points out Takaba.

“A big bed,” agrees Feilong, wriggling a little on his knees.”

“What does one actually DO at a slumber party anyway?” wonders Asami aloud.

 

It’s less than an hour later that he’s mentally kicking himself for asking the question, glaring at the black nail polish on his fingers. He admits the foot massage Feilong’s giving him between applying more of the same color to his toes is quite nice, but he’s trying to remember if he saw any polish remover in that big basket of cosmetics Takaba had dragged in and doesn’t think he had. Damn it. He has a meeting with the president of Yokohama tires in the morning. Aki giggles and shoves another piece of really expensive sushi into his mouth. Asami glares at him, but the luminous happiness on both their faces, the expressions that had made him agree to let them accost him with nail polish in the first place, makes it impossible to be angry. They’ve imbibed generous quantities of dark, nutty beer by now, and although his control is much too good to let him get truly drunk, even Asami feels a little light-headed with it. He suspects this may have more to do with how hilarious his boys are acting than with the amount of alcohol he’s ingested. Takaba, however, is quite definitely tipsy, and even Feilong has a bit of a buzz. It only makes them more ridiculous, but he draws the line at letting them put bows in his hair or cosmetics on his face.

They have already gone through the photographs and  selected the best ones, which Aki has filed away to be edited and printed later. They have ordered in obscene amounts of wildly expensive food and probably had way too much of it. They have watched a truly terribly horror movie about strippers and zombies….and strippers who ARE zombies. Feilong’s hair has been repaired from a runaway anime heroine’s disaster into an intricate cascade of braids that fall down to his waist and make him look somewhat like an amazon warrior, because he’s still wearing eyeliner and his lips are dyed as dark a red a heart’s blood. Takaba is still wearing the Jigglypuff t-shirt and the belly chain with a pair of cut-off jeans. Asami finds the chain inexplicably sexy and keeps finding excuses to touch it, to feel the links warm from Aki’s skin. He himself has been reduced to his boxer briefs and nothing else, which has pretty much ensured that the amount of attention paid to the horrible movie was essentially nil. He’s not sure why they haven’t ended up naked and tangled up like eels yet. By some unspoken agreement, there seems to be a desire to drag it out. The silliness is interspersed with touches and nibbles and stolen kisses, but nobody’s naked. It is a testament to how upended he really feels that he has yet to seize control of the situation and fuck somebody blind. He intends to, but he can be patient.

“I read about a game Americans play at lumber parties,” says Takaba suddenly, bouncing on his knees on the bed a little.

“Oh?” asks Asami lazily, running one of Feilong’s braids through his fingers and making the other man shiver.

“Yeah! It’s called Truth or Dare.”

“Sounds interesting,” he replies, sitting up a little, because it actually does.  “How does one play?”

“We take turns, and when it’s your turn you get to pick someone and ask them Truth or Dare? And they pick which one they want. And you ask them anything you want or think of some stunt you want them to do and they have to do it or they have to pay the forfeit.”

“What’s the forfeit?” asks Feilong, also looking interested.

“Oh…um…I don’t know. Whatever we agree it’s going to be beforehand, I suppose…”

Asami picks up the black leather paddle and grins wickedly.

“Five with this, I think,” he says smugly. “And I’m instituting a rule. There will be nothing dangerous or distressing demanded of anyone. I think we can all stand a little embarrassment, but there will be no…” he thinks for a moment, “No stunts which could result in serious injury. And you may not ask anybody to do something they really have a problem doing. You,” he points at Aki, “don’t get to dare me to let you beat me. No one may ask either Feilong or myself for details about our business or organizations that we can’t discuss. Do you both hear me? Keep it fun, my pets, or I’ll put a stop to it and you won’t like what happens.”

Feilong nods solemnly but Akihito rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be tiresome, Asami,” he says sarcastically. “Nobody’s going to do that anyway.”

“If you’d asked me before today, I would have said neither of you would voluntarily wear girls’ clothes and make out naked in front of a camera,” he points out calmly.

“Fine,” pouts Takaba. “Just for that, you have to be first. Asami…Truth or Dare?”

“Hm,” he muses, watching the sly look on Takaba’s face from under his eyelashes, wondering for a moment which he should choose. He thinks it might be a little too early in the proceedings for him to give Aki the chance to dare him to do any damn thing. “Truth.” He smirks a bit when Aki pouts some more, knowing by it that he’s made the right choice.

“Spoilsport,” mutters the photographer sullenly, then narrows his eyes speculatively.

“How old were you when you lose your virginity?” he asks.

“Which one?” purrs Asami lasciviously.

“What? How old were you the first time you fucked somebody. Oh, I get it. Was it a boy or a girl?”

Asami smiles to himself because if Takaba clues in, he’s going to be pretty shocked.

“I was fifteen, and it was with a woman. A prostitute hired by my father,” he says. “It was too dangerous for me to date girls of my own age and social status, as ties represented weaknesses to be exploited by our family’s enemies.”

“You liked girls then?”

“This may come as a surprise to you, Takaba-kun, but I still like girls,” says Asami with a smirk. “I just like you and Feilong better.”

“Huh,” says Aki thoughtfully. “So when’d you fuck a guy for the first time?”

“This is more than one question,” he points out. Takaba makes a face at him. “But I’ll humor you. I was nineteen the first time I, as you so eloquently put it, fucked a guy. That doesn’t count as a separate loss of virginity though, as in both cases I had penetrative sex with a partner. To me, at any rate.”

“But you said which…”

Realization dawns, and Asami lets his mouth curve in a distinctly nasty smile.

“No way,” says Akihito, shaking his head.

“Seventeen,” says Asami serenely.

“No. Way!” cries Aki, leaning forward and poking Asami in the chest. Asami grabs the offending finger, tugging it to his mouth and nipping sharply. “Ow! You’re a mean person. Do you seriously mean to sit there and tell me that you….that some guy put his…that you let somebody…”

Asami leans forward, still holding Aki’s hand captive, to breathe softly in his ear.

“That I let another man shove his cock up my ass? Yes. I do mean to tell you that. I was young. He was powerful and compelling and beautiful. Oh Aki, it hurt. The first time, I cried and begged him not to. He did anyway, pushing into my ass while I whimpered and begged and sobbed. Just like you. When he made it feel wonderful I still begged him not to, but he forced it from me, my pleasure torn from me amid my blood and tears.”

“A…Asami…” whispers Takaba, shuddering.

“After that, he taught me. Taught me the pleasures of a man’s body. Taught me control and power. Taught me that the fine line between pleasure and pain can blur with the right touch into something much more intense than either alone. The things in that room were his once, and he gave them to me before he died. In all my life, there was only one man I called sensei, and it was him.”

“Did you like it?”

“That’s enough questions, Takaba,” he says evilly, smiling heartlessly as Aki pouts even more. “Let Feilong have a turn.” Feilong grins.

“Did you like it?” he asks coyly.

“You didn’t say Truth or Dare,” chides Asami.

“I don’t care about daring you to do anything. I want to know the answer.”

“Very well, I’ll humor you too, as that seems to be what my life has become recently, humoring two adorable little brats while I try to figure out where my life went!”

“Don’t’ whine, Asami, it’s not attractive,” teases Aki with a smirk. Asami raises an eyebrow and stores that one away for future reference.

“To answer the question isn’t quite as simple as yes or no,” he says thoughtfully, leaning back against the bed pillows. “I suppose that to be as honest as possible, I must say yes. I did like it. He was a skilled lover, and you’re both well aware that the…male anatomy is such that it’s possible to wring pleasure from the unwilling. It’s not precisely fair to say that I was unwilling, because I only begged him to stop the first time. I…I was fascinated by the things he showed me. The restraints, the cuffs, the toys and whips.” He smiles to himself, lost in memory. “But after that first night, when he took me to show me his dungeon, he watched my face as I took it all in, and he asked me what it made me think about. I was afraid he wouldn’t be pleased with my answer, but I’ve never been one to tell someone what they want to hear if it isn’t true. I said it made me think about what he’d look like in the harness he was holding in his hands. I asked what all of it was and I told him I wanted to learn how to use it. Then I braced myself for him to knock me down and rape me again.”

“Asami,” gasps Feilong, looking sorry that he’s asked. Asami laughs at his stricken expression.

“Ah don’t fret, sweet boy,” he says gently. “He laughed. He laughed, and told me he knew he’d chosen right. He wasn’t looking for a slave, or a pet. He was looking for a successor. He told me that if I were to become a Master, I must be willing to become intimately acquainted with every item in that room, and how each of them felt. I said yes. It was…grueling. Terrible and exciting and consuming. I never learned to love the kiss of the lash, but I never hated it either, and he was very good. The pleasure that came after the pain wasn’t terrible at all, and he never again took anything from me against my will. He trained me, and part of that was learning to serve him, but only so that I would know what it was like. I did get to find out what he looked like in that harness too, and he showed me with his own body how to fuck another man. He showed me how to give pain without damage, and pleasure with my words and my  hands and my body. So I lost my virginity to him when I was seventeen, and took someone else’s on my nineteenth birthday  when he said I was ready to put some of what he’d taught me into practice. Yes, Feilong, I liked it. But I like what I do to you much better.”

Feilong and Akihito are both a little breathless when he finishes speaking, fascinated and somewhat aroused. Interestingly, talking about it to them has him rather aroused as well, and he finally rediscovers his urge to grab the reins and steer the evening’s proceedings. Enough with the silliness, he’s been more than half hard for going on four hours now, and there’s a goddamned limit to his patience.

“Takaba,” he says with a wicked sneer, “Truth or Dare?”

“Nuh-uh, I know that look, you’ve got something perverted in mind you’re going to make me do. I’ll take truth!”

Asami manages not to roll his eyes at how easy the boy still is to manipulate sometimes.

“Have _you_ ever wondered what it would be like to fuck another man?”

“You mean have a lover besides you or Feilong?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Aki,” he scoffs, “you know what I mean. Have you ever wondered what it feels like, pretty pet, to push yourself into a man’s asshole, wondered how tight it would be, how different it would feel from doing it with a woman?”

Akihito blushes and looks at his hands.

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “But not with you, Asami. I…even that time when I tried to tie you up, I didn’t think about that…I wanted to ride you until you fell apart for me, but not…that.”

“But you’ve wondered, hm?”

“Yes,” whispers Takaba, the blush darkening, and doesn’t seem to want to look either of them in the face. Asami shares a long, significant glance with Feilong, who nods almost imperceptibly in case Aki happens to look up.

“Feilong,” purrs Asami. “Truth or Dare?”

“Hey!” says Takaba hotly. “You already had your turn!”

“Mm,” says Asami, “and I’m taking another one!”

“Cheater.”

“Aki?”

“What?” asks the younger man sullenly.

“Shut up. Feilong?”

“Dare please, Sensei.” Feilong grins wickedly and Asami’s positive he knows where this is going.

“Show him what it feels like.”

Aki’s eyes fly open wide in shock.

“What?” he cries, scrambling back until he’s up against the wall, pressed into it and staring wildly at both of them in turn. “No! I….that’s….”

Feilong smiles a filthy smile at Asami, who feels his cock harden even more, and gets on all fours to crawl sinuously up the bed to where Akihito tries to cower in alarm. When Aki’s body is caged by his own, Feilong leans in and kisses him softy.

“Come, Ototo,” whispers Feilong seductively, rubbing his lips softly against the younger man’s. “You know you want to. You know you’re just dying to find out what it feels like. Oh Aki, it’s so good. So tight. So warm inside and you’ll just die when you feel how soft. Like silk, Aki, wrapped around your cock and squeezing so hard…”

Akihito’s hips arch helplessly up towards Feilong’s body and he makes an inarticulate sound in his throat that is equal parts desire and terror.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ani,” he cries in protest.

“How disappointing,” purrs Feilong, and the sound makes Asami’s cock twitch inside his snug shorts. If they don’t get on with it pretty soon he’s going to start encouraging them and he’s not sure Akihito will appreciate that. “Because if you haven’t noticed how much I like it to hurt, you haven’t been paying attention at all. Come, Aki…you were there, with my cock inside you, when sensei took me the first time.”

“Yes,” gasps Takaba. At least part of him doesn’t have nearly the doubts the rest does, because he’s pressed rigid and tight against the crotch of his denim shorts. Feilong glances down and notices, murmuring how uncomfortable it looks. His deft fingers have Akihito’s shorts unbuttoned and tugged down his hips before Aki is able to frame a coherent protest. One of Feilong’s hands reaches surreptitiously behind his back and he gestures urgently at Asami with it. Fortunately in this case, Asami’s pretty sure what he’s asking, and when the bottle of lube slips into his grasping fingers, Feilong nods once, and glances back over his shoulder to shoot Asami a smile. He squeezes some onto his slender fingers without looking and then drops the bottle. He leans down and kisses Aki again while he swiftly prepares himself. From his position behind Feilong, Asami is treated to a front row seat for this process and finds his restraint shattered by the vision of Feilong’s fingers pushing roughly into his own tight hole. Asami slides up the bed behind him and Feilong is so consumed by his own desire and anticipation that he doesn’t notice, yet another testament to have safe he finally feels here. When Asami slides a finger into his slick heat alongside Feilong’s own two fingers, Feilong cries out in surprise and pleasure. He knows perfectly well Feilong doesn’t need this. Knows he can accommodate Asami’s size with little to no prep work and just a little lube to ease the burn. Knows very well Akihito’s size won’t prove any kind of obstacle, and that Feilong would take the boy easily without all of this, but that he’s doing it for Aki’s sake. Aki, who is staring between both of them with wide eyes and parted lips, his erection leaking precome and his hands trembling with the desire to touch Feilong. Whimpering with desire, Feilong leans down and takes Akihito’s cock in his mouth with an obscene slurp. He leaves the work of prepping his hole to Asami and holds onto Akihito’s hips. Asami lazily drives two fingers in and out of Feilong’s hot little asshole, watching the look on Takaba’s face as he whines and arches into Feilong’s eager mouth, staring at Asami as he fingers their lover slowly.

“Say yes, Aki,” he breathes quietly. “You know you want to. You wouldn’t want me to have to punish him for not completing his dare, would you?”

Feilong drags his mouth away from Aki’s cock long enough to gasp out,

“Ungh. Can we pretend I said no? And then let me do him anyway?”

Asami laughs in delight at how outrageous Feilong is. What the hell else can he do but accommodate him? Feilong’s on his hands and knees over Aki’s body anyway, so Asami feels behind him for the cool leather of the paddle’s handle, bringing it down on the breathtaking ass in front of him pretty damn hard. It’s too light to cause real pain to a filthy little painslut like Feilong, who just squirms and lifts his hips and sucks harder on Takaba, groaning loudly and nodding his head furiously. Five strokes seems woefully inadequate when Feilong is begging with the eager arching of his back for _more._ The sounds he’s making around Akihito’s cock have the younger man squirming and gasping.

“Ohh. Hngh. Feilong! Yes!” pants Aki. “Yes, I want to. Oh stop, stop it, I’m gonna come if you don’t. Asami….shit. Qu…quit hitting him, he’s not listening!”

Asami sighs and sets the paddle down, which makes Feilong groan sorrowfully at the loss of the sting he’s enjoying. He growls softly and lightly flicks his fingernail against the tender skin of the other man’s ball sack, making Feilong yelp and sit up, paying attention now.

“Focus, pretty one,” he warns softly. “You’ll have what you want in a little bit.”

Feilong nods briefly in comprehension and moves up so he’s straddling Akihito’s lap. Smiling down at the boy, he takes the shivering cock in his hand and guides it to his entrance. Aki gasps when the head of his erection presses firmly against the pucker of Feilong’s ass.

“Oh….” He whispers, as Feilong slowly lowers himself down, biting his lips and letting his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Feilong moans softly.

“Ahhh, Aki,” he sighs. “So good. You feel so good.”

“Hungh,” whines Akihito mindlessly, staring enraptured at the place where his dick is disappearing inside his lover’s body. His eyes are wide and blind, and his hands, trembling with strain, grasp Feilong’s hips and dig in convulsively. The Baishe takes him in all the way, until he is sitting in Takaba’s lap, and then he simply goes still, letting the boy feel all the sensations of being inside him. Asami closes his eyes as Akihito whimpers and moans and pants feverishly. He knows exactly what it feels like. The unbelievably tight ring of muscle near the entrance, and the way that muscle grips and squeezes and convulses with every tiny shift of movement. It’s tighter than any woman’s cunt will ever be, sometimes so tight it’s painful. And then, beyond that incomparable friction there is a softness that is startling to one who has never felt it. He can’t imagine why it would feel so silky soft and delicate, but it does. It’s why he sometimes takes longer than he needs to finger one or the other of them before he sinks his cock inside, because he loves stroking that wet, velvety softness with his fingers. He lays down on his side, resting his weight on one elbow, and reaches between their bodies. His fingertip gently circle the  stretched ring of flesh around Takaba’s cock, strokes over the photographer’s testicles and Feilong’s. They both cry out together at the touch, and he smiles.

“So pretty,” he whispers, returning the finger to where their bodies are joined. “Raise up a bit, Feilong. I have an idea.”

Feilong does, and Akihito sucks in a breath at the movement. Asami whips a cock ring around the base of the younger man’s cock swiftly, before Aki even realizes what he’s doing.

“Ah…Asami,” cries the boy in protest. “Wh…why…”

“You’re going to come in about two minutes if I don’t do this, my pet, and I want you to enjoy it longer than that. And…” he strokes back and forth with his finger, letting the tip slip just barely under the rim of Feilong’s hole, “I want to try something. Feilong, move your lazy ass, let him feel what fucking’s really like.” And he slaps Feilong sharply on the hip. Feilong groans and puts his hands on Takaba’s shoulders, lifting himself up and then sinking back down quickly, taking Aki deep with the hard drop of his hips. He rides him hard, so that their bodies slap together and Aki cries out in startled pleasure at every stroke, lifting his hips to meet Feilong’s. He’s almost sobbing with need when Asami’s hand on Feilong’s back slows him down. The rigorous fucking has done what he wants, loosening Feilong even more, and now he can slip his finger inside along the hardness of Takaba’s cock. They both whimper. Asami’s hand on Feilong’s back pushing him forwards until he’s lying atop Akihito’s chest. Aki’s arms steal around the slim, muscular body and his fingertips stroke down the groove of Feilong’s spine. Asami works his finger in deeper, tugging slowly and gently against the ring of Feilong’s hole, teasing it open further.

“Sensei,” cries  Feilong, his voice filled with an agony of need.

“Didn’t you say you wanted it to hurt, beautiful one?” he purrs maliciously, making Feilong whine. “Can you do it, sweet boy? Can you take both of us at once?”

Akihito chokes on his startled exclamation, but Feilong squirms and gasps.

“I…ohhh sensei…I don’t….know. But…let’s s…see.”

“There are times I don’t give a shit how much it hurts you,” says Asami softly, making Feilong shudder. “There are times I love the thought of one or both of you sobbing while I take you. But Feilong…if it’s too much, you tell me.”

“Y…yes sensei!”

“I mean it, pet. If it hurts in a bad way, and you do not tell me, I’ll punish you, and not in a way you’ll enjoy, because I’ll be angry. Yes?”

“Yes sensei,” gasps Feilong.

Asami leans over the joined bodies beneath him and pushes his finger more deeply inside Feilong’s hole, the slide of it along his length making Takaba whisper obscenities and roll his hips upwards. Asami pulls slowly at the tight ring of muscles inside Feilong’s ass, carefully stretching him further. He goes achingly slowly, gently stroking and tugging and sliding. Feilong shivers and moans. What he’s doing now is no strain for the Baishe at all just yet, because what’s inside him isn’t any bigger than Asami’s cock. Carefully, he adds a second finger, and both his lovers cry out at the sensation.  The slide of his fingers in the silky heat of Fei’s body and along the hardness of Takaba’s is a fascinating contrast. The way both of them mewl and whimper and curse softly is so tasty he wants to lick them both up like ice cream. When he slowly spreads his fingers, Feilong whines and shudders and there’s pain in the sound. Asami goes very still, holding the stretch.

“How is it, pet?” he asks softly. Feilong pants quietly for a few seconds, then nods shortly.

“All right, sensei. It’s good now.”

And indeed it seems to be because Feilong presses himself against Asami’s hand, taking his fingers deeper.

“Ohhhhh,” he sighs. “Burns. More, please.”

“Asami,” cries Akihito, his voice sounding a little freaked out and scared and scandalized, like he can’t really believe any of this is happening.

Asami’s mouth crooks in a smile. There are times when he simply has to sit and look at what’s in his bed, in his life, and marvel at what in the world he could possibly have done to deserve to have the exact two personifications of his darkest fantasies at his fingertips. Takaba’s innocence, his to corrupt and twist to his own designs tantalizes him, and that despite all he has done the boy remains unsullied and bright is almost too incredible to be real. In Feilong he has found a lover as sick and degenerate as he himself, one who revels in the darkness and takes what he gives and begs for more.  Separately they are wonderful. Together they are breathtaking. Since, karmically speaking, the whole thing should crash and burn around his ears to give him back what he’s sown, he tries not to examine it too closely. He only knows he’d burn Heaven and Hell to keep them by his side, and safe.

Although Asami is generally something of a greedy lover, demanding and forceful, insisting upon his own pleasure and dragging it ruthlessly from his partners’ bodies (kicking and screaming if they insist on it), this time he’s as patient as he is when pursuing a touchy business deal or courting a new ally who isn’t sure of him.  He loses track of time as he slowly and carefully makes room in Feilong’s body for his invasion. This is nothing he’s ever tried before, and though he knows intellectually that it happens, and mostly nobody dies from it, the feel of the soft flesh inside the younger man seems so fragile that he simply can’t rush it. Both Akihito and Feilong and almost babbling with frustration by the time he’s willing to proceed.

Quickly divesting himself of his shorts, he places a knee outside each of Aki’s thighs, trickling his fingers up the outsides of Feilong’s legs and hips to settle atop them. He leans in and kisses the back of the eagerly squirming man, brushing thick, shining black hair out of the way to do so. Feilong sighs and whispers to him.

“Ohh sensei, please, I want…I need…”

“What, beautiful one, what do you need?” purrs Asami against Feilong’s warm skin.

“You. Please, sensei.”

Asami pours out a ridiculous volume of lubricant into the palm of his hand and fists his cock, now throbbing like a toothache. His eyelids flutter as the slide of it sends a helpless shudder of pleasure coursing through his body. One finger slides into Feilong’s hole again, tugging him wider to make space for Asami to work the head of his cock into the tight grip of the muscle there. Feilong throws his head back and sucks his breath in through his nose. Akihito cries out in shock as the pressure on his cock increased due to the stretch. Asami slides fingers positively dripping with slick around the quivering rim and eases himself forward a fraction of an inch. Feilong trembles violently.

“Hngh. Sensei…” he cries, “Hurts!”

“Is it too much?” asks Asami through gritted teeth, really hoping he’s going to be able to stop if Feilong can’t handle it.

“N…no. Just…hurts…” whimpers the Baishe. Asami can hear the lust in Feilong’s voice even as it thickens with the threat of tears.

“Will you cry for me, Bishounen?” purrs Asami, gaining an inch and gasping a little after he asks it. It’s so tight it almost hurts him too, but it’s exquisite pain. “Will you…hnn…gods, Feilong, so _tight…_ will you give me your tears?”

“Ahh…Asami sensei,” cries Feilong, turning his head so he can look over his shoulder. Asami can see tears shining in the beautiful black eyes, welling up and trembling on the tips of Feilong’s sooty eyelashes to finally trickle silently down his cheek. He is lovely in his pain, and Asami’s breath catches. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath against the urge to press in harder and faster.

“Asami,” says Takaba, his voice shaking with concern and fear, “you’re hurting him!”

“Yes,” breathes Asami, and slides in a little more. Feilong groans through his teeth in pain but he pushes back against Asami.

“ _More,_ ” sobs Feilong. Asami grins ferociously over Feilong’s shuddering body at Aki, smirking at the shocked expression on the boy’s face. Aki glares at Asami and takes Feilong’s face gently in his hands.

“Ani,” he whispers, “are you sure?”

“ _Nnngh,”_ moans Feilong. “Ye…yesssss.” Akihito looks into his eyes for several breathless seconds as though he’s searching for the lie in the words, but Asami knows he won’t find it. At last Aki’s big hazel eyes slide from Feilong’s to look up at Asami again.

“Asami?” he whispers, and Asami grits his teeth against a helpless moan when the boy’s hips shift and cause their cocks to rub together inside the tight clench of Feilong’s body.

“Wh…ahh…what is it, Aki?” he pants, pressing in just a little more and wringing a pained cry from Feilong.

“Asami, it feels _amazing,”_ breathes Takaba in awe. “This is… _fuck._ It’s sick is what it is. Don’t stop!”

“I’ll make a pervert of you ye…yet, Takaba-kun,” grits Asami through his teeth, battling for his characteristic calm and missing the mark by a little, but the feeling of both of them pressed firm against his cock is more than anyone would be able to remain impervious to. His brain is bombarded with sensations that remind him of inexperienced boys losing their breaths and their minds as they awkwardly rub their erections against each other and of taking a reluctant virgin too scared to relax and let him in and of the way it felt the very first time he spread a lover’s trembling buttocks and pressed himself inside that quivering heat and it was heady and breathtaking and terrifying and perfect all at once. This is all of those things too. Feilong’s soft tears and needy encouragement alongside Aki’s scandalized thrill are like drugs. He presses his forehead to Feilong’s temple and whispers filth at both of them as he carefully nudges his way the rest of the way inside. Feilong howls a little in pain as he’s forced open wider than he’s ever been, and Asami goes very still, panting and hissing at the squeeze of it.

“F…Feilong?” he chokes, shuddering with the need to move. Feilong sobs in response and Asami opens his eyes and gazes on him with concern.

“S…sensei,” shivers Feilong, his eyes wet and his lips trembling. “S..so good. It’s…oh please, please sensei. _Fuck_ me!”

They do, but carefully. Though what they’re feeling is fevered and wild, their movements do not reflect their emotion. It is carefully gentle, with Asami making shallow, slow withdrawals partway out of his hole and then pressing back inside with aching slowness. Takaba does not move so much as he simply rolls his hips to meet each of Asami’s slow and careful thrusts. Between them, Feilong sobs with the ache of being stretched beyond what his body is meant to bear and with the frustration of the necessarily cautious pace. When Feilong begins to shove his ass back to meet Asami’s cock, he decides probably his lover could be asking for a little more, and he adds a little shove of his own to the end of each thrust. Feilong screams at the sensation.

“Oh. Oh!” he shouts, frantic. “I can’t…fuck, hurts. A..asami! Sensei! Please, I’m going to….Ungh…I need…PLEASE SENSEI I NEED TO COME!”

“Fuckfuck,” gasps Takaba, pressing upwards into Feilong while he shudders and pleads. “Me too. Asami, oh FUCK. Now, please nownownownow!” His voices goes upwards into a scream of his own when he cannot restrain himself anymore. Asami grinds his teeth and stares at them flying apart at the seams under him, trying to prolong his own release, but it is a losing battle. The flutter and quiver and clench of Feilong’s hole on his cock coupled with the surge and twitch of Aki’s and the hot, wet surge of the younger man’s spunk spilling around him are too much, and they drag him over the edge with them. The intensity of it surprises him and he shouts out in shock and awe as his body is utterly swamped with pleasure rushing through him like a flood. They all collapse like they’ve been poleaxed, breath heaving and bodies shaking. It takes quite some time for them to find the energy to move, and when they do and withdraw carefully from Feilong’s body, it makes him mewl helplessly against Akihito, but they pet him and Asami finds it gorgeously intimate for both he and Takaba to lean their faces close and whisper to Feilong what a good boy he’s been and how wonderful and lovely and perfect.

They are almost asleep when Asami suddenly remembers a question he’d meant to ask earlier and lifts his head to the chagrin of both younger men who had been using his body as a head rest.

“Where did you _get_ the purple paint?” he asks curiously. He about 99.9% sure it’s nothing he’s ever purchased!

“We picked the color we wanted on my laptop and then sent Kirishima to go pick it up for us,” replies Takaba

Asami’s lips curve in a slow, nasty smile.

“He was the only bodyguard on duty here today, was he not?”

“Well…yes.”

“And have I or have I not told you both that you’re to have someone from my household with you at all times?”

“Um…maybe?” asks Takaba hopefully.

The smile turns into a wolfish grin as Asami realizes he has something to punish them for after all. Perhaps his life isn’t as far out of control as he’d thought!


End file.
